


no ethical existence under captitalism

by Manuscriptor



Category: Okja (2017)
Genre: Body Worship, Critical of Capitalism, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Whump, i'm not sure if i should use that tag but ya'll better behave, tw eating disorders
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-24
Updated: 2020-07-24
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:01:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25477339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Manuscriptor/pseuds/Manuscriptor
Summary: The movie didn't really go into Silver's eating disorder so I figured someone had to.They finally have a day off without a mission or project to take up their time. It's a rare chance to relax. Blond wants to keep his boyfriend alive, but it's very hard to justify any sort of ethical existence under capitalism.
Relationships: Blond/Silver (Okja)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 18





	no ethical existence under captitalism

**Author's Note:**

> tw eating disorder, discussion or weight and body image, discussion of meals and eating patterns
> 
> please take care of yourselves !!

Silver slept in late. 

Usually, if he wasn’t running on adrenaline, he was sleeping—heavy and deep and long. Sometimes, Blond would watch him and wonder whether or not he would wake up, wondering what he would do if that happened. Every time he fell asleep, it felt like a gamble, one that Blond didn’t like taking. Silver, on the other hand, didn’t seem to care. 

“Hey,” Blond said, shaking him gently at first and then a little harder when he didn’t respond. “You should wake up.” 

It was late afternoon, hot but overcast, a typical summer day. Normally, it was a day to be out protesting or spreading flyers or doing _something_. The fact that they weren’t was rare. A privilege. Blond wanted to take advantage of it, but without the stress and adrenaline from a mission or task, Silver was out like a light. Had been since last night and from the way he breathed deep and easy, that wasn’t about to change anytime soon.

“You should wake up,” Blond said. “You’ve been asleep. . . . too long.” 

He didn’t say how it broke his heart to see Silver like this. He just mumbled in his sleep and rolled onto his back, stretching his arms up and groaning. He cracked his eyes open, smiling up at Blond and then yawning. 

“Hey, babe,” he mumbled. “What time is it?” 

Blond glanced at the clock on the side table. “Three-seventeen,” he said and then nudged Silver’s hip. “In the afternoon.” 

Silver just laughed and yawned again. “That early?” 

Blond wanted to laugh and smile with him, but it didn’t feel right.

Silver must’ve notice his unease, because he reached up and put a hand on Blond’s thigh. Blond didn’t want to think why he didn’t want to sit up. Did he not have the strength? Would he just fall asleep after this? And this time not wake up? Blond didn’t want to think about that. 

“I’m just worried,” he admitted. 

“Why?” Silver asked. His arms were still stretched over his head, back arched, maybe on purpose maybe accidentally. 

He was wearing a thin tank top that hung off his frame. The armpits had long-since been stretched out and dragged almost to his hips. He wore a pair of Blond’s boxers too, but they were too big and almost falling off. 

His hip bones jutted up, thighs thin and the skin hanging off. His stomach sunk in and his ribs flared out, wider and wider with every breath. His eyes were bright though and his smile, although sleepy, was strong. His hair had grown out a bit and they hadn’t had the chance to cut it. It flopped across his forehead, almost in his eyes. 

“Why?” he asked again.

Blond blinked and realized he had been staring too long.

“Because look at you,” he said, leaning over and running a hand from Silver’s stomach to up and over his rips. 

His fingers skipped across the bones, drumming on the ridges and missing the valleys in between. The skin was tight as Silver held his breath and then sagged as he exhaled. His ribs still protruded a little too much to ease Blond’s worry.

Silver sighed and brushed his hands away, grunting as he pushed himself up. “I’m fine,” he said. 

Blond didn’t want to argue. “Hey, the cherry tomatoes have been turning red this whole week. I bet they’re ready to eat.” 

They had gotten seeds from a local farmer and had grown them themselves. It wasn’t perfect, since their apartment was only so big and they had limited supplies. The tomatoes had grown miraculously, sprouting into fat leafy bushes under Silver’s care and attention. The couple stalks of corn were already flowering, their tassels silky and pale. The apartment was filled with their pollen, and Blond had to dust surfaces daily. 

The carrots were coming in good, along with the radishes. A couple of potato plants in big jugs would give them enough to last for the whole year. The green bean plants were in full flower, and the single squash plant they’d managed to squeeze into the apartment had spilled over its hanging container and it’s green fruit rested on towels on the floor.

Troughs of herbs were clipped and groomed by Blond, kept alive all year round at this point. All in all, it promised a good spread, plenty to make hearty meals out of. 

If only Blond could convince Silver to eat. 

“Come on,” he said, grabbing his boyfriend’s hands and helping him to his feet. 

Silver stumbled getting out of bed and had to let go to hold the boxers up with a sheepish smile. He fumbled to the closet, picking out of their small supply of clothes they shared. Once he was a bit more decent, he let himself lean on Blond as they walked out to the living room together. 

The curtains were flung open, since their small garden needed as much sunlight as it could get. The rain barrel system they had set up to recycle water as much as possible was half full due to a storm last night, and once Blond was sure Silver was settled in a chair, he scooped up enough to fill their filter system, leaving it to drip down. 

He already had a kettle full and ready to boil, from his own water that he used this morning, and turned that on. 

He grabbed two mugs, handmade and honestly a bit uneven but wonderfully imperfect. He remembered the day that they had trekked out to the ravine and gathered the clay themselves. That had been one of Silver’s better days, when he was a bit stronger. Blond carefully clipped a couple fresh mint leaves from the plant and dropped them into the mugs.

The water was hot enough so Blond poured them both cupfuls. 

Silver looked hesitant about it. Blond just pushed it closer to him. 

“Come on,” he said. “We grew it ourselves.” 

Silver wrapped his hands around it, looking like he was absorbing the warmth more than anything. “Sure,” he said. “But every little bit counts.” 

“Every little bit counts for you too,” Blond said, rubbing his back before settling down next to him again. “The world doesn’t gain anything if it loses you.” 

Silver snorted. “It would gain a lot,” he said. “With the right materials, I could compost a three-foot cube. That’s nine square feet. That’s like an urban garden for a typical American family.” 

Blond just leaned against him, not hard enough to push him over but enough so that his presence was noticeable, like a stead rock. Silver’s body was cold, though he wasn’t shaking, and Blond brushed his fingers over his arm, noticing the hair that grew all the way down and onto the back of his hand, fine and pale but present.

“Come here,” he said, hooking his arm in Silver’s and helping him up.

They had a ratty old couch they had gotten off the street. One of the corners had been shredded by a cat at some point, but neither Blond nor Silver minded. By now, the afternoon sun was spilling across it, and Blond eased Silver down. Silver immediately closed his eyes, like he was a plant soaking up nutrients. Blond made sure his cup of tea was still tucked into his hands, settling down next to him with his own mug. 

“I have an idea,” he said, resting his head on Silver’s shoulder and a hand on his thigh. “Cherry tomatoes, salt and pepper, on toast.” 

Silver wrinkled his nose. 

“I have a loaf I cooked myself,” Blond said, patting his knee reassuringly. “I’ve double checked all the ingredients. Locally sourced flour _and_ eggs. Red gave me a bit from her sourdough mother.” 

Silver opened his mouth, but Blond pushed on. 

“The salt is homemade. Remember a couple months ago when we were up in Alaska helping with that oil spill off the coast? I got a gallon of water and boiled it down myself.”

Silver took a sip of his tea, and Blond smiled. 

“Just this once,” he said as a bargain. 

He pushed himself to his feet and made his way to the kitchen, getting out a serrated knife and uncovering the loaf that he had indeed made himself. The salt was kept in an air-tight mason jar on top of the cupboards, and the black peppercorns were also locally sourced. He set about making the small meal, though it was a big win in his mind.

“There is no ethical consumption under capitalism,” Silver said from his spot on the couch. 

“Except for eating the rich,” Blond said as he sliced into the loaf. 

Silver snorted into his cup. “Not even they deserve violence,” he said. 

Blond sighed but did his best to keep up the joking tone. “If only they were more inclined to do their part in helping the world then.” 

Silver didn’t have a response to that, and the sound of cooking filled the small apartment. Silver wasn’t the biggest fan of the oven, so Blond used it as quietly and quickly as possible, toasting the bread until it was a golden brown and setting them each on a beeswax-ed handkerchief. 

There were more than enough cherry tomatoes on the plant, and Blond twisted each one gently free, washing them with a few splashes of water from their filtered jug. He sliced them thin, shingling them over the slices of toast. He topped each with freshly cracked pepper and generous sprinkles of salt from the glass jar. 

He carried the small meal back to Silver, taking his spot next to him. 

He didn’t take a bite of his own slice until Silver did. 

Together, they ate slowly, staring out the window of their apartment at the blue, blue sky. The screens were cracked open so a breeze could get in, and that helped with the summer heat. The tomatoes were sweet and juicy, popping in their mouths. The salt and pepper were savory and mouth-watering. The bread was crispy but soft. 

They both finished at the same time, collecting the crumbs and brushing them into the compost bucket. The handkerchiefs only needed a quick wipe-down and then they were clean. The caps and other scraps of tomato were composted as well. 

Silver looked almost instantly better as soon as he got food in him. He perked up, eyes bright, and actually looked awake. 

“We should do something today,” he said, pushing himself to his feet and pacing the room while Blond sat and finished his mug of tea. “There’s still that animal shelter in town, right? Are they a kill shelter? I can’t remember.” 

Blond sighed. “We’ve talked about that,” he said. “Without responsible home situations arranged, freeing the animals is putting them into an even worse situation. And setting them free would introduce too many predators into the local ecosystem and that just damages prey populations like birds and rodents.” He stood and took Silver’s hand to get him to stop moving. “And then before you know it, bug populations are out of control and people start spraying their yards.” 

Silver flapped his hands and shook his head. “Fuck. Fuck people who spray,” he said. “Okay, not the shelter. Shelter was a bad idea. What else is local? Start local, go higher, that shit.” 

Blond set his cup on the counter, taking both of Silver’s hands, pulling his back towards the bedroom. “You need to slow down,” he said. “Take projects one at a time.” 

“I have energy,” Silver said, pulling his hands free so he could flap them. “I need to _do_ something then. You expect me to just sit down?” 

“Come on,” Blond said with a smile, pulling him down onto the bed. He cradled Silver’s face in his hands when he ended up leaning over him. “Wake up early— _earlier_ —tomorrow, and I promise we can do something then.” 

Silver sighed and rolled to the side. Blond craned his neck to look at him and then ended up just rolling on top of him anyway, straddling his too-skinny thighs. Silver grinned up at him, grabbing his shirt and trying to pull it off. 

“Hey,” Blond said playfully, grabbing the hem to keep it down. 

“What?” Silver said. “If we aren’t going to help the animals we may as well act like ‘em.” 

“You’ll be exhausted,” Blond said. He didn’t say that Silver bruised too easily and that the yellow-purple blobs that stretched across his skin the next morning after they did anything always made Blond’s gut twist. Or that burning precious calories doing something that seemed so selfish felt horrible. Blond wanted him to rest a little. 

“Fine,” Silver said with a huff, laying back. “Then I’m going to go adopt a cat. I bet it would love living on the road with us. And helping with missions.” 

“Hey,” Blond said softly. He slid his hands under Silver’s shirt, half to distract him and half to appease him. 

The bones were hard and the skin was dry. Blond fought the urge to wrap his hands completely around Silver’s waist, instead sliding them up to his armpits and over his shoulders, back to cradling his face and leaning down for a slow kiss. 

Silver leaned into the touch, kissing him back enthusiastically. 

His hands were cold as they slipped up under Blond’s shirt to pull him down. Blond actually had to hold himself back so that he didn’t accidentally fall and crush him. Silver wasn’t that put off though, yanking at Blond’s shirt as he tried to get it off and hooking his legs around Blond’s hips. 

“Careful,” Blond mumbled out of the corner of his mouth. 

“Don’t want to be careful,” Silver mumbled back. “Come _on_ , let’s do something.” 

Blond grabbed him under the arms and sat them both up, pulling Silver onto his lap and wrapping him in a hug. He barely weighed anything, and Blond should’ve been concerned with how easy it was. Silver hung onto him with his arms and legs, grinning against Blond’s mouth. 

His hip bones dug into Blond’s, and his ribs flared in Blond’s hands with each breath he took. And Blond could feel each one, every bump and ripple. The skin was so brittle, Blond was scared he would rip it off or break it if he gripped too hard. It wouldn’t of course, but it was still somehow a fear that Blond had. 

“Easy,” he said, when Silver continued to climb him, trying to pull him down but unable to get his weight or strength behind his movements. 

“Not easy,” Silver mumbled, still trying to kiss him. “Very hard. You’re dumb.” 

“Tomorrow,” Blond said. “That’s final.” 

“You’re no fun,” Silver said but he still planted a firm kiss on his lips before pulling away. He still sat on Blond’s lap and now he had stopped trying to pull him down.

“I’m just responsible,” Blond said. “More than you. And you think that’s no fun.” 

Silver just sighed and leaned his head into the crook of Blond’s neck. He yawned a moment later. “I’m tired,” he said. “I’m gonna sleep.” 

Blond held him a moment longer, patting him on the back and them easing him down onto the mattress. He arranged his shirt carefully, tugging it down so it sat properly, and then managed to unhook Silver’s ankles from his lower back. He pulled the blankets up next, and then extricated himself from Silver’s arms next, climbing off of him. He combed his fingers through his hair, so it wasn’t in Silver’s face.

“Stay,” Silver said, catching Blond’s arm as he tried to leave. The word ended in a yawn, and his eyes were already drifting closed.

Blond smiled and moved the blankets, settling down next to him. Silver curled into his side, shivering a little less. Blond was more than happy to share his body heat. 

Silver slept, and while it made Blond’s stomach flip with nerves not knowing whether or not he would wake up each time, he loved the time he could spend with him—while they still had time to spend.

**Author's Note:**

> hey look, i'm on tumblr @manuscript-or


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